


Departure

by Voleste



Category: Christian Bible (Old Testament), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biblical References, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voleste/pseuds/Voleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ten Plagues were a harsh punishment. Not just for Egypt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Departure

There was something intriguing about Egypt. Oh, they had their most peculiar gods of course, and Aziraphale couldn’t exactly condone that, but he could still appreciate Egypt for what they were. A magnificent culture. For example, they had found a way to record stories - what use that would be, he thought. Oh, it wouldn’t be for him; he had _been_ there after all. He didn’t need the reminder.

Still, it was impressive. There were a lot of other things that could be said about Egypt and its rulers, but that part was impressive.

Not only that, it was beautiful. The Nile and the nature around it was in stark contrast with the warm sands and sky; a welcome change after the vast desert. And the pyramids that rose on the horizon! He knew how they were made, and it was regrettable how this was achieved, but the result was rather nice nevertheless.

Besides, not everyone in Egypt was a bad person. There had to be good souls in there as well. Oh, the Lord had promised the Israelites they would be freed from their existence as slaves in Egypt and that promise was going to be fulfilled - and Egypt was going to pay the price. He knew that. But there was still time before that happened and Aziraphale was planning on spending the time to give those good souls a little nudge.

That, and looking more closely at this invention they called the hieroglyphs. It mustn’t be that hard to be able to read it.

Today he was nudging the good soul of Pharaoh’s daughter. As she scooped out a baby out of the basket and into her arms, she found herself full of pity for this crying young boy. Hebrew boys, as a rule, were thrown into the river; but the mother put her boy in a basket, hoping it would survive against all odds. And now this baby was in the hands of Pharaoh’s daughter. Aziraphale sent a thought her way.

A young child appeared from the bushes and reed near the shore of the river instead and approached Pharaoh’s daughter and the baby carefully.

“Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?” she asked, bold and brave as only a big sister could, watching out for a little brother.

Pharaoh’s daughter looked at her, considered it and said: “Yes. Go now.”

And just like that the baby was in safe hands and Aziraphale hadn’t even needed to interfere. Perhaps it was because this baby was foreseen; this baby was sent by the Lord to guide the Israelites out of Egypt. And for that, it needed not to be born a slave.

Perhaps his influence was not needed here, for this human’s path was already lain out for him. Perhaps that was the reason he stayed.

 

When the boy was old enough, Pharaoh’s daughter took him and adopted him as her own son, and named him Moses. Aziraphale knew she did, because this baby had been given a name before it had been even born. It was a gentle whisper that had embedded in her mind.

He watched him growing up in the safety the palace offered him.

“Oh, you again,” one of the servants muttered.

Aziraphale blinked and looked at the servant closely. He hadn’t even made himself known!  He was invisible to the human eye. Thus, there were only a few conclusions he could come to.

“Is it you?” he said.

“Look, I gave you Joseph,” said the servant, better known as a demon named Krowly on an exasperated tone. “And now there’s this? Moses? I hardly had any fun!”

“It is wrong for the Israelites to be oppressed into slaves, Krowly,” the angel reprimanded him. The demon had introduced himself as Crawly once, but decided he wanted to be called differently. “They are His people and He has decided to bring them back to where they belong.”

Krowly snorted. “You mean, He finally remembers where He _left_ them. It’s been a while - ” He fled behind a pillar when one of Pharaoh’s cats strutted by.

Aziraphale watched it all, a little puzzled.

“Anyway,” said Krowly, pretending that never happened. “You’re early. He’s all but a boy. I’m not about to stand in the way when, err, He’s about to interfere because I want to survive the whole ordeal. I remember the flood. But he’s not even eleven! And hardly of age.”

“If _you_ are here I will simply have to stay,” said Aziraphale. “I want no harm to come to him.”

Krowly smirked slightly. “Deal. I won’t lay a finger on our Egyptian prince.”

 

And so he didn’t and Moses grew up to be a handsome young man. A young man, who, when he learnt about his origins, wanted to see his people. So he did; but the shelter of the palace had protected him against much. The Hebrews were slaves. He understood that. That was but a simple fact. He just never had to see what was wrong with that until now.

An Egyptian was beating up a Hebrew. For what he didn’t know, but Moses didn’t think it was justified. Krowly, the demon, nudged that injustice and turned it into anger.

Moses went back and killed the Egyptian and buried him, thinking no one had seen him. Krowly couldn’t have foretold this; killing had not been on his schedule. Nevertheless he could use it and spread the rumours with just a whisper in the right ear.

Moses was called to Pharaoh.

But Aziraphale, who knew what Pharaoh was planning told him to flee because Pharaoh was going to kill Moses for what he had done.

 

“And now he’s gone,” the demon said to Aziraphale. His clothes looked better now, Aziraphale noted. But he still looked wary at the cat lounging in a stripe of sunlight close to them.

“Good job,” continued Krowly. “You chased away the one man who could save those poor souls from Egypt.”

“Oh, no,” said Aziraphale. “It’s all part of the ineffable plan. He’ll be back.”

Krowly patted one of the gigantic statues. “This is Anubis,” he said conversationally.

Aziraphale looked at the statue. “No. That’s just a bit of stone.”

“Humour me, will you?” said Krowly. “These Egyptians are creative. They’ve got gods for everything! Their imagination has run really wild with some of these. That one there is Ra.”

Aziraphale looked disdainfully at the mentioned Ra.

“I don’t see the point in these,” the angel said.

“The point is that you should look at what they can do. Don’t you think it’d be a waste if He came down and left it all in ruins?”

“The world can do without false gods and their false statues,” sniffed Aziraphale.  
“Forget the false gods,” said Krowly. “I think it’s pretty clever how they carved those out in the first place. And the hieroglyphs. And the pyramids.”

Aziraphale started to look difficult. “Well. They’re still at fault.”

“A-ha,” he grinned. “You’re starting to agree with me.”

Aziraphale disappeared.

 

The next time he saw Aziraphale, he was with Pharaoh. Climbing steadily through the ranks because he wanted to be there when it happened. He wanted to see. Krowly could name all the Egyptian gods alphabetically and backwards, knew what they were for and why people worshipped them. They expected him to worship them too. It was easy to fool the humans.

Next time he saw Aziraphale, Aziraphale had still not made himself visible. Instead he was hovering close to Moses and his brother Aaron, whispering something in their ears.

Krowly didn’t care what was whispered; he just wanted to see what was going to happen. After all, for Moses to come back… he wouldn’t have done that unless He Himself was with him. Krowly was a tiny bit afraid, but above all, intrigued.

Upstairs was doing some interesting things these days.

Aziraphale had spotted him, too.

“So, who’s that?” asked Krowly quietly, watching the two Hebrew man.

“His brother,” said Aziraphale. “They’re going to ask to let the Israelites go.”

“Hm, but we both know that’s not going to be that easy. Have you seen with how many people they are? It’s insane, I tell you. All that manpower, gone.”

“It won’t be that easy,” Aziraphale agreed. “Why are you still here? It’s not going to be pleasant for you, you know.”

He shrugged. “Did you try the food around here?”

“Surely there are more important matters than food,” Aziraphale huffed. He would have crossed his arms if he could have crossed his arms in this form.  He momentarily thought about making himself visible to emphasise the point, but he wasn’t sure if Pharaoh would take it well if he suddenly materialised in the room.

“Maybe, but it’s good,” Krowly insisted. “Come back later. I’ll give you a taste.”

Aziraphale was taken aback. “Your foul mouth will not distract me from my mission, demon.”

“I was just talking about food,” said Krowly, before shutting up. The other _magicians_ were looking at him weirdly, as if he had just been talking to himself. Which was maybe not that weird to begin with, but when you started arguing with yourself, that was an entirely different matter.

Krowly was wondering how they were doing all that. It wasn’t real magic what the Egyptian magicians were practising; real magic had a distinct flavour. Nevertheless they could produce some wondrous things that would’ve normally been impossible. Strange.

As they turned their attention back on the scene in the middle of the room, Moses and Aaron were gone already.

“You distracted me,” said Aziraphale.

Krowly thought he sounded whiny.

“Doubt we’ve seen the last of them,” he said, and the angel had to concur with that.

He carefully brushed out the folds of his clothing. “I’m going to retreat to my room,” he told Aziraphale, “and have a great meal and you won’t know what you’re missing.”

“Indeed I won’t,” said Aziraphale and took flight.

 

Next time he saw Aziraphale the angel was actually in the room with them. He was part of the crowd, probably had snuck in behind Moses and his small following. This wasn’t all that surprising. They kept meeting each other, despite the enormous size of the world. Krowly went where the big and powerful civilisations were to bring them down; Aziraphale went where the Hebrews were and the human leaders of this world to keep them on the straight, narrow path. They usually ended up in the same place on opposite sides. In one or two rare cases they had been on the same. And that had been all kinds of strange.

He wondered what Moses was thinking right now. Defying the place you once called home probably wasn't easy. 

Aziraphale was wondering the same thing; he knew what had happened afterwards. He had gone after Moses and told him he had done the right thing. In turn, Moses had shaken his head.

“I have brought nothing but trouble on these people,” Moses had said, gesturing to the slaves who had to work harder than before. “He has not rescued these people at all! On the contrary!”

And Aziraphale had tutted and told him one was not to question the plan, but secretly he had wondered as well what He was up to. Oh, but he carefully guarded that thought, because an angel was not supposed to question, or wonder even. Trouble was ahead if one questioned. Look at Krowly! Questioning was all he did, and look where he had ended up.

So he kept a straight face and trusted and had faith, for it would eventually be alright. Even if Krowly was there, close to Pharaoh and now trying to get his attention. Aziraphale ignored him.

“If the god of the Hebrews has spoken to you, prove it to me,” Pharaoh said. “Perform a miracle.”

Aaron took the staff from Moses and firmly planted it on the marble. It didn’t clatter to the ground, as one might expect from a staff, but instead stood there perfectly upright, before wood turned slowly into a real, living snake.

Now, that was a peculiar choice, Krowly thought.

Pharaoh looked unimpressed and summoned his magicians.

“I assure you that by the power of the Egyptian gods, my people can do the same,” he told Aaron and Moses and the magicians took their staffs. They all turned these staffs into snakes and Krowly still wondered how they did it.

He had not answered the summoning; instead he leant back, against a pillar and watched how the Hebrew snake gobbled up all the others.

The Egyptians chose to ignore that fact and Moses was laughed at.

 

The following morning Aziraphale decided to pay the demon a visit.

The demon in question was in the rather deserted palace, sitting in a lavish garden; a garden reserved for Pharaoh and his family, but Krowly was merely borrowing it. It _was_ a nice garden, he thought. He dipped his cup in the Nile and drank from it.

“I wouldn’t do that,” said Aziraphale, when the demon filled his cup for a second time.

“And why is that?” said Krowly, who crossed his legs and swirled the contents of the cup. He was looking at Aziraphale, not looking at the river behind them and didn’t notice what was happening. He drank from the cup to spite Aziraphale. A moment later he spit it out.

He looked at his cup.

“Oh, _gross_ ,” he complained, throwing the cup into the river. The river was now completely red, and Krowly, who had been sitting with his feet in the river pulled one foot up. It was covered in blood. It had stained the white fabric of his robes as well. He got on shore quickly, getting rid of the stains with a simple gesture.

“How long will this be going on?” he asked.

“It didn’t even really begin yet,” said Aziraphale, who cautiously took a step backwards when the blood began to overtake the shore. “This is just the first step. This has been foreseen, you know. The Exodus. I don’t know the exact details, mind you. I just know it’s going to be a lot worse.”

“Well, I just lost my appetite,” said Krowly. “It can’t get much worse than that.”

“Demons don’t have an appetite,” Aziraphale reminded him.

“Hm, but this one does.”

Krowly went back inside and appreciated the cool air of the palace. Aziraphale followed him.

“By the way, what _is_ that what you’re wearing?”

“Magician robes,” Krowly grinned. “I’ve got an _excellent_ view on the whole spectacle.”

“I meant on your face.”

He shrugged. “No idea. The Egyptians do it. Something with protection from the evil eye or whatever.”

Aziraphale thought about this for a moment. “The only thing truly evil here is you. From an objective standpoint, of course. Nothing personal.”

Something dangerous glittered in Krowly’s eyes. “So you don’t think the Egyptians are evil?”

“No,” he said. “They’re simply, err, misguided in their beliefs. You probably had a hand in that, seeing as you were here before I arrived.”

“Thanks for the compliment, angel. I didn’t do anything. I’m content with just watching.”

They were walking through the massive, empty rooms of the palace with its murals. It was both impressive and terrifying, Aziraphale thought, if you considered that all of this was made by humans.

Krowly led them to a banquet; food was already stalled out and the water was being hastily swapped for wine. He carelessly picked up a bowl full of dates and tried one.

Aziraphale looked disapproving.

“I ought to thwart you,” he said.

Krowly raised a finger. “No thwarting. There are no wiles, so you can’t thwart them. I have a right to be here.”

“Maybe I ought to get rid of you anyway,” said Aziraphale. “In case you mess up the ineffable plan.”

“But you know that is not right,” said Krowly. “You can’t punish someone for something they haven’t done.”

“I can if they’re about to to do something that isn’t right.”

“Ah, but you don’t know whether I’m about to do something or not,” Krowly said, eating another date. He shoved the bowl in Aziraphale’s hands.

“See you.”

When he ensured the demon had truly gone, Aziraphale tentatively picked up a date from the bowl. He had eaten before, once, and that had been a mistake. A good, but at the same time _terrible_ mistake, because it had been Krowly who had told him to do it. And once you started to listen to evil and take their advice; well, that simply would not do. He was an angel; he was not supposed to listen to them.

The grapes _had_ been good, though. So he tried a date and simultaneously wanted to eat more and felt guilty about it.

 

The palace reeked. There was no other word for it; there had been frogs, gnats and flies all over the places and now that they had died, they were just rotting. The palace had been swept three times now and still people found dead frogs and flies everywhere; in corners, in the halls, in the temples… there were just so _many_ of them.

It had been a real plague. Four of them, if he counted the blood in the Nile, and Krowly wondered what the fifth was going to be. Pharaoh still didn’t budge and Krowly knew He wasn’t going to budge either. He remembered that.

Then, Moses had come and the dead frogs, gnats and flies just disappeared, as if they had never been there. Perhaps that had been a mistake, Krowly thought. Now everything was back to normal and the Hebrews were still where they were.

The fifth plague had attacked the livestock, but only those of the Egyptians, and the sixth had attacked the Egyptians themselves. Not even the Egyptian magicians could cure those boils and Krowly looked suddenly remarkably out of place, for the plague had not reached him.

Currently it was hailing on the fields and city of Egypt and Krowly watched from a tekhenu, a tower, sitting on the roof. His wings protected him against the hail, even if it wasn’t needed.

“Don’t you think this is all a bit wrong, somehow?” he asked Aziraphale.

“It is necessary if Pharaoh won’t let them go,” said Aziraphale, but he seemed less sure about it all. “Pharaoh is creating his own downfall.”

“Yes,” said Krowly, who agreed with _that_ part, “but don’t you think it’s a bit excessive? Some Egyptians are innocent. I thought you cared about that.”

“It is not to me to question - ”

“Urgh,” the demon groaned. “I know. Still.”

Aziraphale gave him a funny look. “And what is it to you?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Krowly said quickly.

Lightning struck an orchard.

“You know who the goddess of the sky is according to the Egyptians?” Krowly muttered. “Her name is Nut.”

Aziraphale spread his wings out also when rain reached them. Just in case.

“I know what He’s doing,” Krowly continued. “It all makes sense now. He’s not just at war with the Egyptians. He’s at war with their gods.”

“And the Lord is winning,” said Aziraphale as a matter of fact.

“Besides the point, angel. Do you know how many Egyptian gods there even are?”

“No,” said Aziraphale, who wasn’t sure where Krowly was going with this.

“I’ve seen over twenty in the temples, but there are more,” Krowly said with dread. “There must be over a hundred minor gods too, at least. Can you imagine? Twenty plagues? At this rate there’ll be nothing left!”

“I believe _that_ is exactly the point,” said Aziraphale, shifting his stance. “Pharaoh has committed unforgivable offences. I hope I don’t have to remind you that he thinks himself a god!”

They fell silent again, but it wasn’t quiet; the hail, thunderstorm and rain never stopped beating down the fields, taking away the flax and barley that had been growing.

Krowly sighed.

“It’s a sorry sight, don’t you think?”

“It will be a sorry sight when the Lord is finished with Egypt,” was Aziraphale’s reply.

“I think it looks downright depressing already,” said Krowly.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what the demon meant with depressing, but he didn’t ask. “Don’t feel obligated to stay,” he just said. “I can’t guarantee you’ll survive when He is done.”

“Since when do you care about that?” Krowly said bitterly.

Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“If you permanently die by His hand, Hell would have to send a new agent. And I would have to go through the whole ordeal again of figuring out how the new demon works. It is such a hassle. At least you and your wiles are predictable and easy to counter.”

“Huh.”

Despite all that, Krowly did not leave.

 

Pharaoh promised several times he would let the Hebrews go and several times he changed his mind. After a plague of hail, a plague of locusts fell down on Egypt, eating everything that had remained after the storms. There was nothing left. The fruit trees weren’t just devoid of any fruit; they barely resembled trees at this point.

It still didn’t soften Pharaoh’s heart by any means; on the contrary. So Egypt got engulfed in darkness for three nights and three days, with exception for where the Hebrews lived. So Krowly had fled there, for the darkness reminded him of things he didn’t want to remember. He rinsed his face clean and donned Hebrew clothing and blended in just as easily as he had done amongst the Egyptians years ago.

“One more plague,” Aziraphale said to him, who had recognised him immediately. “You should go.”

Krowly glanced at him, and then at Moses, who seemed to be weeping.

“Why?”

“I told you,” said Aziraphale. “This plague will be far greater than any other so far. I am warning you and I suggest you take that to heart. Figuratively spoken, of course.”

“What’s He planning, then?”

Aziraphale looked cross. “I can get in trouble for telling you any of this, demon. Don’t test me.”

Krowly gestured towards the nearest house. “I’ll just go over to Moses then and ask him.”

“No, you don’t,” Aziraphale said, glaring at him. “If you really must know… He or, well, at least the Archangels will come and smite all the firstborn. Neither harbour particularly good feelings for you. I don’t think they would hesitate smiting a demon if they find you here trotting about.”

All sound around them died, except for the quiet murmurs of Moses and his family inside.

“Oh,” Krowly just said.

 

On the fourteenth of that month it happened as Aziraphale had said. The Israelites had painted their door posts with the blood of a lamb and the Lord would pass those doors, letting those firstborns live.

But the rest of Egypt hadn’t and thousands of children died, their breath simply taken away. There were cries in all of Egypt. Egypt had lost everything.

Aziraphale found the demon alive, on top of the same tower. Even all the way up there, they still heard the cries.

“You stayed. And you weren’t brought down.”

Krowly was unresponsive for a moment before vaguely gestured to the city underneath them.

“This is exactly why I was spared.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Krowly almost laughed. “Me neither.” He stared at the dead fields. “I can’t leave. He made me watch. He told me that if I had been so adamant on staying, I should sit it out until the end. And maybe I’d learn something.”

Aziraphale sighed and sat down next to him.

“He works in - ”

“Just shut up,” Krowly snapped. The cries of Egypt only got louder.

“I don’t see why all of this was necessary,” he muttered.

“It must have,” reasoned Aziraphale. “Otherwise it would not have happened.”

He didn’t get a reply. With a sigh Aziraphale got up again, and in a real impulsive moment kissed Krowly lightly on the forehead.

The demon recoiled and stared angrily and panicked at Aziraphale.

“What did you do that for?!”

Aziraphale didn’t really know. “Humans do it for comfort,” he admitted. “And you are one very strange demon, Krowly.”

“Keep your thoughts to yourself,” Krowly spat.

Without saying anything Aziraphale turned his back on him and flew away from the tower. He reacquainted with Moses; the saving of the Hebrew out of the hands of Egypt was only one step, he knew. Moses might need further guidance.

And as Aziraphale, amongst Moses and Moses’ people departed from Egypt to the Red Sea, Krowly just watched. Until there was nothing left.

 


End file.
